Tis the Season
by mossley
Summary: Third chapter added! An unexpected Christmas present for Grissom and Sara. And what did Sara get Grissom? Some mindless fluff with the Geeks, mistletoe, a ring and manipulative old ladies. Three responses to the Improv Challenge.
1. Ch 1

**'Tis the Season  
Summary:** An unexpected Christmas present for Grissom and Sara. Some mindless fluff involving Geeks and mistletoe and a manipulative little old lady. Response to the Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided, with 1,000 words to fill in the rest.  
**A/N: **No spoilers. Thanks to Burked for the quick beta. All mistakes are mine.  
**Disclaimer:** Unless CSI shows up in my stocking this year, it still ain't mine.  
**Rating:** PG

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Sara raised a lone eyebrow as she watched the chaos unfold around her. Even the cherubic child who had sat giggling in the stroller through the parking lot started to scream unmercifully the second she was pushed into the interior of the MegaMart.

With a sympathetic shrug to the overwhelmed mother, Sara worked her way through the crowds of early morning holiday shoppers. A cacophony of angry wails mingled with the cooing sounds made by frantic parents as the scene was repeated throughout the store.

Sara wondered if the universal reaction of the infants was due to a sensory overload. When a hellion pushing a cart loaded with Christmas candy and television sets ran over her foot, she let out an angry yelp and reconsidered her hypothesis. Maybe the babies had a survival instinct that civilization hadn't driven out of them yet.

Her goal was the middle of the store – there was no easy way to get there but forge her way through the mass of holiday-crazed shoppers. It was a one-day sale, and she wanted to update her DVD collection. If she waited until her middle of the night break, the selection would be lousy.

With a resigned sigh, she continued her trek, using the observation skills honed by years of working dangerous crime scenes to avoid any more run-ins with out-of-control shopping carts. Stepping back to avoid a collision with an elderly man, Sara bumped into another patron.

"I'm sorry," she said, pausing when a familiar voice echoed the phrase.

Turning around, Sara bit her lip at the sight of a completely frazzled Grissom holding different boxes of ink cartridges in his hands.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he responded distractedly as he rifled through the boxes. "What brings you to this insanity?"

"I wanted to pick up some DVDs. How about you?"

"I need an ink cartridge!" he complained, squatting down to examine the lower shelves. "Don't they have people that work here? Nothing is in order!"

Leaning back to escape a woman barreling through the narrow aisle, Sara grinned broadly. It wasn't often she saw Grissom when he wasn't completely in control. There was a definite cuteness factor going on.

"They don't have it!" Grissom growled, giving her an annoyed stare. "I've been to all three MegaMarts in town. None of them have the ink cartridge I need!"

"Can't it wait until you get back to the lab tonight?"

Grissom stopped his arranging of the ink cartridge boxes. There was no way he could print _that_ file at work. The odds that Ecklie would see it were slim, but that wasn't a chance he was willing to take.

"It's … personal," he answered vaguely.

"Oh, really?"

He gave her a patient look over his shoulder. "It's for Christmas."

His quest to leave the boxes in some semblance of order was interrupted by another shopper. She walked directly beside him, bending over to check out something on a lower shelf, effectively shoving her polyester-clad rump into Grissom's face.

"Excuse me!" he sputtered, leaning back in disgust.

"Oh, you don't bother me none," the woman insisted.

With a laugh, Sara grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the crowded aisle. "Do you have the file with you?"

"It's on my laptop," he answered.

"Then come over to my place. You can print it there."

Grissom stopped short. "I can't."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "It's part of your Christmas present."

A grin lit up her face. "What is it?"

A sneaking suspicion came over him. She was far too eager. "You do wait until Christmas morning to actually open your presents, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course," she said, nodding. "So, what is it?"

"I'm not telling. You'll have to wait," he said calmly, shooting her an amused look. Her eagerness was infectious, and he enjoyed the look of anticipation in her eyes. But his mischievous streak was awakening from a long slumber "I think I'll give it to you on Christmas day."

"Fine! Let me pay for these, then we can leave. I won't read over your shoulder while you print it," Sara promised.

Thirty minutes later, Grissom was following Sara upstairs to her apartment. They were just getting off the landing when a voice screamed out for them to stop. He scanned the area rapidly, but Sara waved and stepped to the side quickly.

"Hi, Ms. Peters," she called out.

Using her walker, the gray-haired woman moved to join them, surprising Grissom by how close she got. He was even more startled when she pointed to the sprig of mistletoe over their heads.

It took a loud throat clearing from Sara before Grissom realized the old woman was waiting for a kiss. "I can't," he said kindly.

"Why? You married? Got a steady girl?"

"Well, no," he stammered, trying to figure a way to turn down her request. The thought of explaining his entire private nature seemed counterproductive.

"Some people," the woman said sadly. "I'm eighty-seven. This is probably my last Christmas. Some people got to spoil an old woman's holiday."

Feeling mortified, Grissom leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Smiling, he leaned back, pleased that he had made an elderly woman's day. Instead, he found her glaring at him.

"Hell, boy, if that's the way you kiss, it's no wonder you ain't hitched yet."

Grissom stood still, his mouth dropping as the woman crept back to her apartment, managing to slam the door loudly.

Trying to contain her laughter, Sara walked back towards him. "Ms. Peters has been using that trick ever since I moved in here."

"And you didn't warn me?" he asked incredulously, his eyes narrowing. "This is payback for not telling you what you're getting for Christmas."

"I'm pleading the fifth, but giving a lady a Christmas kiss is hardly a chore."

"Is that so?" Grissom asked with a grin. When he had Sara's attention, his eyes darted to the mistletoe over their heads.

"Oh, my."

His lips pressed against hers suddenly, before he chickened out or Sara had a chance to back away. It was a quick kiss, but unlike her neighbor, Sara had no complaints about it.

"Wow," she whispered, stepping away and heading to her apartment with a deep blush.

A silly grin on his face, Grissom followed. Sara waved him in the direction of her computer station as she headed into the kitchen. She stuck her head in the fridge in an attempt to cool the hot rush going through her body. After a minute, she grabbed some drinks.

"You stay over there," he said with a satisfied air. "You aren't getting your Christmas present early."

Sara leaned against the breakfast bar with a challenging glare. He was entirely too smug. "I think I already did," she said huskily.

The smile vanished from his face as Grissom swiveled around to stare at her. With a laugh, Sara tossed him a bottle of water.

_TBC_


	2. Ch 2

**'Tis the Season - Part 2  
Summary:** What did Grissom print out at Sara's apartment?  
**A/N:**. Response to this week's Improv Challenge, and a continuation of last week's entry. First and last lines provided. Thanks to Burked for her beta skills. It may be the holiday season, but all the mistakes are mine!  
**Disclaimer:** Reading legal documents is not good for your mental health. Especially if your professor is under the impression he is teaching a class full of law students!

* * *

There was an overwhelming odor of citrus. Grissom headed back to the kitchen quickly, his nose wrinkling in disgust as the olfactory assault intensified. It hadn't smelled like that in the store. Something was definitely wrong.

Work had been hectic lately, leaving Grissom with little time to prepare for the holidays. True, he'd put out his understated lighted tarantulas with Santa hats, but that was a neighborhood tradition. Everyone was left speechless after watching the adorable dancing spiders.

Normally the lack of decorations wouldn't bother him, but he'd invited Sara over to pick up her Christmas present before work. Wanting the place to be a bit more festive, he had grabbed a bag of "Holiday Spice" potpourri from the store. He'd followed the clerk's directions exactly – put the package into a pot of simmering water.

Grabbing the bag from the trash, he belatedly noticed that it contained six individual packages. In his haste to prepare for Sara's visit, he'd cut the top off quickly, accidentally opening all of them. Now his home smelled like a decomposing orange grove.

With a resigned air, he took the pot and stuck it on his patio, opening some windows for good measure. If he were lucky, the smell would dissipate before Sara got here. Rubbing his beard, Grissom considered the fact he was overcompensating.

The truth was he worried Sara would be disappointed with his present. Printing it at her apartment had been a mistake; she'd spent her free time since then trying to figure out what it was. She probably had built up some sort of expectations.

Christmas had been the one time of year Grissom felt comfortable acting – albeit subtly – on his feelings. No one could complain if a supervisor gave an employee a book. Each one had been a way of sharing himself with Sara. Whether it was the Illustrated History of Roller Coasters or an entomology text, the books were an opening into his interests.

But it had always been one-sided. He always gave her something that dealt with his hobbies. This year he decided to be different; he would step into her world.

Grissom had finished giving himself a figurative pat on the back when he realized the fatal flaw in his plan – Sara had no interests outside of work. Buying her a new police scanner just didn't cut it.

He was especially discomforted because things between them had been more … intense ... since their impromptu kiss. Not wanting Sara to think he was a terrible kisser, he overcame his normal private nature and took advantage of the convenient mistletoe.

When the knock came, Grissom hurriedly closed the windows before opening the door.

"Hey," Sara said, smiling brightly at him.

"Merry Christmas," he responded, taking the proffered gift. "And thank you."

Grissom watched apprehensively as she sniffed the air. When no comment was made, he took her coat and directed her to the snacks set out on the dining room table. "Help yourself. Hot chocolate?"

"Uh, don't go to any trouble," she said, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"It's not. The milk's on the stove."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Here," Grissom said, placing a mug in front of her. After grabbing his own plate, he pulled the wrapped package from his bookcase. He sat down beside her, placing the gift on the counter between them.

"The mystery present!" she said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"It's not much," he protested, watching in amazement at how quickly, but neatly, she ripped open the package. He held his breath as she took out the bundle of paper, quickly flipping through it.

"Gift certificates," Grissom said when Sara turned to him questioningly.

"Yeah, I can see that. But to what?"

"Redeemable for an act of friendship," he explained, pursing his lip nervously when she remained silent.

Sara tilted her head. Her eyes darted from the paper to him several times. "So, I can use these to make Greg handle decomps."

"Well, if you want to use them at work," Grissom began, halting when Sara started to smile.

"And if I want to use them outside of work?" she asked softly.

"You can use them for whatever you want – within reason."

"What's reasonable?"

"Nothing illegal or that would cause undue public humiliation. You could use them for a home-cooked meal. Or if you need someone to talk to," Grissom said, turning his attention to the stuffed celery stalk on his plate. As he feared, his intention failed. He let out a long sigh. "I miss being your friend, miss seeing you smile. I wanted to give you something that would make you happy again, but I didn't know what. It's not much, but…"

"No," she interrupted, pulling out one of the slips of paper. "Here. I'm claiming my first act of friendship."

Grissom's mouth dropped as she slid her arms around his neck and planted a quick kiss to his cheek before burying her head in his neck. "Thank you. It's the best present anyone has ever given me."

He was thinking she was trying to spare his feelings when he felt the warm tears on his flesh. His arms tightened around her, one hand coming to nestle in Sara's hair as he cradled her head.

After a long moment, Sara pulled back, giving him a shy smile. Grissom's hand reached out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, but he didn't let her go. Their eyes locked when his fingers gently wiped the moisture from her cheeks.

Slowly, he inched forward on his stool, his eyes darting to her lips as his hands caressed her shoulders. Grissom paused in his advance, fearful that he was pushing. Sara's fingers running over his beard caused him to freeze.

She smiled at him, sensing his nervousness. "I think maybe you should open your gift now," she suggested, dropping her head bashfully.

"What? Oh, okay."

Grissom reached for the gift, but in his precarious position on the barstool, he lost his balance and began to slide to the floor. Sara grabbed for his arm, but he ended up pulling her down on top of him.

He shot her a chagrined look, but she merely laughed.

"Maybe next time you'll be more careful."

_TBC_


	3. Ch 3

** 'Tis the Season****  
Summary:** And what did Sara give Grissom?**  
A/N: **Response to the Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided. Thanks to Burked and Marlou for their beta services, but I'm claiming all mistakes as mine. I'm greedy that way.**  
Disclaimer: **Does anyone actually read these things? If so, let me know. First person to get back to me wins a "prize". (Don't hold your breath – it's nothing exciting.)

**Chapter 3**

"I wouldn't go there if I were you."

"Why not? You need some ice," Sara said, looking over her shoulder at Grissom. He sat on the floor, nursing a bruised elbow injured in his fall. Before he could answer, the odor hit her full-strength as she walked into the kitchen.

"God, Grissom. What is that smell?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Potpourri," he grudgingly answered.

"Potpourri?"

He closed his eyes, stretching his arm out painfully. This hadn't exactly gone as planned, but Sara had responded positively to his gift, giving him heartfelt hug. Things seemed promising – until he landed on his ass, pulling her down with him. At least she was taking it in stride.

"I had an … accident in there earlier," Grissom said.

"Today isn't your lucky day," Sara replied as she quickly grabbed an ice tray from his freezer and tried her best not to breathe. After snatching a dish towel from the counter, she cocked her head in confusion at his chuckle.

"I don't know about that. I'm feeling very lucky today," Grissom said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Uh, huh."

His smile faltered when he noticed her raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean …"

"Uh, huh."

"I meant I'm lucky you're still my friend," Grissom explained, not quite willing to vocalize his hopes that their relationship was on a more personal heading.

"Uh, huh."

He raised his own eyebrow at her when Sara squatted beside him, handing over the makeshift icepack. The amusement in her eyes was impossible to miss. With a grin, she held out her hands to him, helping Grissom to his feet.

Once standing, he ignored the icepack, instead keeping his hands resting lightly on her waist. They stood together, both smiling and enjoying the other's company, but neither sure what the next move should be. After a moment, Sara shrugged lightly and nodded to his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" she asked softly.

"Very."

"Uh, huh."

"I'm starting to think I should have gotten you a thesaurus for Christmas," he teased.

"Nothing could have made today any better," Sara told him. "That was the perfect gift. Thank you."

"Damn! I should have given you this first," Grissom suddenly remembered, patting his pockets. "Where's the ring?"

"The what?" Sara stammered after a stunned silence.

"The ring," he repeated, pulling out a small box. When she continued to stand staring at him, he smiled and pressed it into her hands.

Sara opened the box slowly, looking in confusion at the circular band inside. Cautiously, she lifted her eyes up.

With a grin, Grissom took the ring from the box. Reaching around, he took the stack of certificates from the breakfast bar. After opening the latch on the aluminum ring, he threaded the pre-punched certificates onto the band.

"There," he said, handing it back to her. "They're recyclable. There's no limit to the number of times you can redeem them."

Grissom blinked when Sara dropped her head, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, chuckling as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pulling back, their eyes locked. She could see his hesitance hadn't dissipated. "You haven't opened your gift yet."

"Right," he said, taking the package from the counter quickly. With the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips, Grissom pulled the tissue paper from the gift bag. Reaching in, he retrieved the CD case. "That's … nice."

Sara grinned at the mix of emotions on his face. The CD was a rare, out-of-print classical compilation he had once mentioned wanting. It had taken months of scouring online auctions and music stores to find a copy. But she could tell he had been expecting something else.

"There's more," she prompted.

Grissom pulled out the rest of the tissue paper, carefully unwrapping a small bundle. He grinned as he looked up.

"I, uh, 'borrowed', that from Ms. Peters," she said, nodding to the mistletoe. "I didn't want you to be afraid of coming by my apartment. You don't have to worry about being ambushed again."

"It wasn't entirely an unpleasant experience," he said, clearing the frog from his throat.

"No. It wasn't."

His thumb began to rub slow circles over the back of her hand. When she didn't object, he licked his lips. "In fact, it's something I wouldn't mind repeating."

"Well, Ms. Peters isn't here," Sara said with a wicked grin.

Grissom shrugged and let out a dramatic sigh. "So much for that idea, then."

"You don't have to do an exact re-enactment, you know."

"I think you may have a point," he said, leaning forward. At the last moment, he turned his head and planted a chaste kiss on Sara's cheek, similar to the one he had given her elderly neighbor. With an innocent grin, Grissom leaned back.

"Smart ass," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him properly. It started tentatively, their lips coming together in a series of short touches that gradually grew in length and passion. Some time later, they reluctantly pulled apart, their foreheads resting together.

"That wasn't entirely unpleasant," Grissom said, letting out a wince when Sara brushed her fingers down his arm and over his elbow.

"Sit down and let me see that," she directed, her concern taking over.

"It's nothing."

"Sit. Take your jacket off."

"It's nothing," he repeated. Undue attention wasn't something he relished, but one pointed look from Sara was enough to get him to comply.

"It doesn't look too bad," she said, pressing the icepack against his elbow after her inspection.

"I said it wasn't."

"Get used to it," Sara said, watching him affectionately when he gave her a baffled look. "To having someone care."

"I think I can learn to live with that," he whispered, tenderly cupping her face.

Sara brushed her lips against his, savoring the deep and lasting kiss. Pulling back, she took a deep breath. "Okay. I better get out of here. We have to work tonight. We can continue later. If you want."

"I do," he assured her. After escorting her to the door, and another parting kiss, Grissom wandered back to his couch. Despite the potpourri incident and his pratfall, things had worked out. Sara was going to give him a chance.

With that, he sat back and smiled.

**The End**


End file.
